Triangle Poem by Michael Arthur

Unwound after a night out
place was empty

didn't polish off all my thoughts

Chilvary' dying on torn wallpaper

How I still want to go by
the old house

Dad's crabapple
Mom's magnolia

Where my cheekbones weren't so
gaunt come spring

Bedroom door full of bumper stickers
and bottom of the cereal box

rub-offs

Matchbox cars and toothpicks
gluing wings to a fuselage
made of sharks teeth

Believing the second coat
of blue could wait until tomorrow

A sandbox missing my hand

as ground seems following
a dear friend's death

Just black

Another screech gives approval to
a bare December

whose roots were buried
a century before

We needed the sun
We needed off the cuff
We needed idle brood

of evaporating breath